Written In The Stars
by Miss.Magic Girl
Summary: They had to die. It had always been the plan, at least it had been their plan. Who would have thought that two sentient beings would care so much for the mortal world, perhaps they really didn't want them to die. So, you see they had to die so that they could go back and fix things. Fore it had been written in the stars.
1. Chapter 1:We Die and Come Back

**Hello people, so yeah I'm back. So its been awhile, sorry about that. I know you weren't really expecting a new story when I came back but I figured that its been so long I should try something new. I've had a few ideas for a crossover story like this for awhile and I decided it was time to come back and try it out. A few things about this story before you read it. This is not your typical crossover. I know, I know, not an original saying. You've probably read that over a thousand times, but this time its true. This story is not about demi-gods going to Hogwarts to protect the Golden Trio, or Percy being old Voldemort's grandson, or even Percy and Harry being related. Nope, this story is completely out of the box different. At least I hope it is. So once again, I'm back and yeah thanks.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing all characters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and the amazing Rick Riordan.**

 **Chapter 1-We Die and Come Back**

He remembered dying.

He'd been fighting Death Eaters when it happened, they were trying to take Hogwarts - something that had never been possible, even during seven years of war. He'd been ambushed. Thirteen to one, hardly a fair fight. He hadn't given up, he would never give up, but they were winning. He knew he couldn't let them get past him, he couldn't let them win. He'd fired a curse at one of the pillars, it hit, and the ceiling came down. He hadn't gotten away. Everything went black.

It wasn't scary like you would think it would be, dying that is, almost like greeting an old friend. It was almost as if he was floating, suspended in mid-air with no broom to hold him up. There was an odd feeling to it as well, not uncomfortable like apparition, more like he was wrapped in a blanket made of water.

It was quieter here then when he was alive. No screams from across the battle field, no explosions from misguided curses, no one barking orders...nothing. All he could here was the sound of his own breathing...

But he shouldn't be breathing, the dead don't breath. He shouldn't be able to feel his heart still beating in he chest, while it was beating slower than normal, it shouldn't have been beating at all. He was dead. The dead don't breath and they don't have beating hearts. That's why they're dead. He should be in the after life with everyone else who had died fighting that psychotic megalomaniac and his power crazed followers.

So why was he here? And where was here?

He was dead, he had to be. No one could have survived that explosion, not even with his weak attempt at a shielding charm. What was happening? He had died, he knew he died. Maybe if he were to open his eyes...

 _Your not dead yet...not completely._

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice, only to be met with a blaring whiteness that seemed to go on forever. Nothing else, no floor, no ceiling, no nothing. Just an endless white void. He tried to sit up, but considering there was nothing around him, he couldn't figure out which way 'up' was. If there even was one.

Was this what death was like?

The disembodied voice chuckled, _Mr. Potter if you would please hold still for a moment so that I may tell you why your here._

Harry froze, he didn't remember introducing himself, he didn't remember saying anything. Never mind the fact that he was famous and nearly every wizard on the planet knew his name. That shouldn't matter here, **_he was dead_** , there was no way for this...voice to know who he was.

 _Oh but I do , I've been watching you ever since you destroyed Tom Riddle as a child. You have the makings of a great wizard in you and that of an even greater man. I'm here to help you, to give you a second chance at life. Another chance to destroy the man who took so many lives._

Harry didn't know what to do. The offer was tempting, a chance to redo everything that had gone wrong in his life, save those that he couldn't and bring justice to a world that no one else could. But he still remembered the advice he had been given in his second year. Someone had nearly been killed because they hadn't followed it and he wasn't about to make the same mistake, and despite how it made him feel more then just a bit insane, he opened his mouth and spoke into the blankness.

"A wise man once told me not to trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain," the responding laugh he got in reply to was rich and deep and unmistakably male. It seemed to echo all around him bouncing off the nonexistent walls and off into the unknown.

He could practically hear the smile when the voice spoke next. _Quite right_ , the voice sounded highly amused with by all of this, _you should never trust something that you cannot see. So why don't we continue this conversation..._

The voice disappeared and then Harry was no longer floating, but sitting. A stark white chair beneath him, a coffee table floating just a few feet ahead filled to the brim with sandwich platters, biscuits, and a tea set. A couch the same color as his chair floated on the other side of the table. A man who looked to be in his early thirties sat upon it. He wore an elegant black suit with a red undershirt and a black silk tie. His long back hair was tied back with a blood red ribbon. He was the epitome of an up and coming business man. The only thing that seemed out of place would be his barefeet.

"Over a cup of tea?" Two tea cups floated up from the coffee table along with the teapot. The pot poured itself and the two cups floated away, one landing in Harry's lap and the other stopping in the air next to the man. The man plucked it from the air along with a biscuit that had all but jumped into his awaiting palm.

The man smiled at him,"I hope your a fan of peppermint," he offered the biscuit plate to Harry who made no move to take one,"it is my favorite."

Harry said nothing. He just continued to stare at the man sitting in front of him. The man simply sighed at Harry's guarded expression and returned the plate to the table. He lent forward a bit in his seat, propping his elbows on his knees while his tea went to float by his side.

"Now I'm sure you have quite a few questions bouncing around in your head. Go ahead and ask. I will try to answer you as honestly as I can," the man gestured towards Harry, coal black eyes staring at him so intently he thought he may burst into flames.

This man, whoever he was, was not wrong. Harry had plenty of questions, most of them pertaining to the situation he found himself in. He honestly wasn't sure what to ask first, but after a moment of internal debate he decided to start with an easy one. He did not trust this man, but he needed answers.

"Who are you?" the easiest and most standard question there was.

The man smiled showing off his pearly white teeth,"I figured that would be your first question," he lent back in his seat and plucked his cup out of the air, a smirk playing across his lips,"I am Death, Mr. Potter, and I'm here to offer you a choice."

Harry swallowed thickly before taking a deep breath. It wasn't possible, death was just...death. It wasn't a person it was a thing, a state of being, not an actual _person_. It was ridiculous. Then again thirteen years ago he would have thought the idea of magic existing was ridiculous. He looked up at the man smirking at him from across the table. Like he knew what he was thinking.

Harry took a deep breath and stared down into his tea,"what do you mean exactly by _'choice'_?"

Death set his tea aside, it floated in the air next to him, and he lent forward again. The smile on his face never wavered,"a choice to do right Mr. Potter. To change the things that seemed irreversible. To stop this war before it ever has a chance to start."

It sounded like a good deal. A chance to fix his mistakes and right his wrongs...it was almost too good. In fact it was to good. It was just the kind of thing Voldemort would do, get into Harry's head, trick him into doing his dirty work. That's what this was, it had to be, just another trick. Some Death Eater must of grabbed him after he blew up that wall, they kept him knocked out and planned all of this.

But why? They only do things that benefit their own needs. Harry being dead would have satisfied those needs. Why would they drag him back to the Dark Lord and put on this whole show?

They wouldn't.

"Of course you could always move forward to the next life, let someone else deal with this whole fiasco. But I did choose you for a reason," he was leaning into the couch now, tea held delicately in one hand while the other rested across the back of the couch,"of course the choice is yours to make."

Harry inhaled deeply before letting it out in a large puff of air. If this was really happening. If this man could honestly give him another chance at life, a chance to save Fred, to ask out the girl he was truly in love with, to see Sirius again, to save people from not only death but a life of pain and torment. A chance to save his best friend.

Harry ran a hand through his hair in thought. If he was going to do this he would need help, and who better to help than his slightly insane, sword wielding best friend Perseus Black. Percy was already dead. There was no reason that he couldn't help him, none at all...but was he really selfish enough to pull his best friend out of the after life and drag him into the past to re-live his extremely messed up life.

 _I'm here for the cause Harry, we all are. I'm here because I want to be, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried, and don't you dare try. You didn't drag me into this I brought myself here, and I'd do it again if I had the chance. I believe in this cause and so does everyone else, but unlike me, they need you. They see you as their last hope. Believe me Harry, I'm your best friend, these people need you. So get your butt to that gate and let me deal with this!_

One of the last things his best friend had said to him before he died. He couldn't do this alone. Harry took a deep breath, he didn't want to involve Percy, but he would need help.

 _And if Percy ever found out I had done something this stupid without him he'd drowned me,_ Harry thought gruffly, mind made he turned towards Death, no turning back now.

He sat up and looked Death in the eye,"I want to go back,"Death smiled as if he had been expecting this responses,"but I won't be able to do this alone. From what I've learned you always need someone by your side when it comes to things like this, and with what I'm going to have to do I'll need help."

Harry stopped to let Death think over what he had said. The man in question just lent back in his seat a bit more, rubbing his chin in thought. Harry thought he looked a little like on of those cartoon villains from that show Percy had made him watch.

"I suppose,"he spoke slowly, like he was thinking about every word he said before he said it,"that it would be acceptable to pull one more person back with you...but just one, you'll have to figure the others out by yourself,"Harry wasn't sure what he meant by that,"I will chose one person for you to bring along."

Harry took a deep breath,"with all do respect sir there's only one person I trust enough to do this with me." He was expecting a complant, maybe a reprimanding, heck he could have asked who Harry wanted to take with him. But nothing surprised him more than when Death began to laugh.

It wasn't a large laugh, something more akine to an amused chuckle,"he told us you would say that," he let out another chuckle before calling over his shoulder,"you two can come out now, he's agreed."

There was a slight breeze and an almost inaudible _'pop'_ , as Harry watched as two people appeared just behind the couch. Harry was shocked. It wasn't so much as their entrance that surprised him, no he saw things like that every day, it was the people who had shown up.

One was a woman who appeared to be in her mid to early twenties. She wore a knee length greek dress, fabric perfectly matching the void all around them. It was made of some kind of sliken material that flow and rippled down her body like a cascade. Sparkling golden pinns held it up at her shoulders. With her glossy black hair was put back in a stylish up-due the same kind of glittery gold pins that held up her dress weaving in and out of the black waterfall. Her eyes were a mix of gold and black, each color shifting and swirling fighting over control of the iris. Her sandals were the same shimmering white as her dress, with straps wrapping all the way up to he knees. There was no questioning her beauty. She was like a goddess. But Harry had no idea who she was.

The twenty-one year old male next to her, on the other hand, he knew quite well. The same unyielding hair the exact color of the unlit night sky, looking as if it was tamed by the wind itself. Dark navy blue t-shit and the leather jacket that Sirius had given him for his fifteenth birthday, dark wash blue jeans and the same dragon hide knee high boots that Harry could have sworn he wore into the shower. An empty sword sheath sat on his hip and the leather band his girlfriend had given to him was tied around him wrist. Sea-green eyes, much deeper than Harry's own, stared back at him swirling and alive like the ocean itself. His trade mark lop-sided smile playing across his lips and Harry couldn't decided weather to punch him or hug him.

"Well are you just gonna stand there catching flies or are you actually gonna say something?" Punch, the answer was definitely punch, but even then Harry couldn't help but smile.

Then his face hardened and the smile melted into an angry scowl,"you were there the whole time and you didn't bother to say anything,"he probably would have stood up too, if he hadn't been so afraid that he would fall into the white void.

Percy gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged his shoulders, running a hand across the back of his neck,"the decision had to come from you, and if you'd known that I had already agreed it would have weighted your decision," he shrugged again,"of course I would have tried to convince you anyways. If you had said no, that is, and I would have gone even if you refused, but it was all about where your choice lied. Like Death over here said, it was all up to you."

Harry sighed and was about to open his mouth to retort, but before he could even utter a syllable the woman next to Percy let out a laugh, sounding like a dozen jingling bells,"you two are exactly as you were in life,"she let out another chiming laugh," high spirited, well trained, and stubborn as Ox. Which makes you perfect for the job,"she turned to the sharply dress man on the couch,"Death, wonderful to see you again,"she held out a hand and Death was on his feet in an instant brushing his lips across the back of her knuckles.

She turned to Harry, swirling eyes zoning in on his figure,"I'm sorry, how rude of me not to introduce myself. I am Chaos, Primordial Goddess of the Universe, lovely to make your acquaintance "she spoke formally with a dazzling smile as she held out her hand to him, awkwardly Harry took it in his own and brushed his lips over her knuckles as Death had done just moments before. She smiled at Harry once more before slipping in beside Death on the couch. Accepting the offered cup of tea with another smile. A chair appeared beside Harry's and Percy dropped into it rather ungracefully. His friend turned to him with and smiled, completely at ease despite the fact that two of the most powerful beings in the universe sat right across from them.

Death cleared his throat and nodded towards them folding his hands across his lap,"now back to business, Mr. Potter," he turned his black eyes to Harry,"as you have just joined us I believe we have a bit of explaining to do, but first lets get something out of the way, why don't we?"

He gave Harry a timid smile, just a slight pull of his lips, before Chaos took over," you've already been informed of our plan to send you and Perseus back in time. When you get there you'll arrive in your past bodies where ever you where at the time we send you back to. When you arrive the two of you will need to find each other, like I said before we cannot control where you'll appear when we send you back, that all depends on where you were," she paused for a moment to let that sink in," you'll need a designated meeting place." She paused, waiting for one of them to say something.

"The Leaky Cauldron," Percy suggested.

Harry shook his head,"no, that's too obvious, too noticeable. Someone is bound to notice us if we jump into the Wizarding strait away."

"True,"Percy muttered under his breath,"so somewhere mortal then?"

Harry nodded,"the mortal world would be much more beneficial to the two of you seeing as is a famous wizarding icon and is not even suppose to exist," Death interjected.

"But we'll need to go eventually, its inevitable, and its not like we can just ignore our Hogwarts letters. The school is the center of everything. WAIT...when exactly are we going to be sent back to? How old will we be?" Percy asked, looking at them as if it'd just occurred to him that they'd never mentioned that detail before.

"We have discussed this many times since deciding on this plan,"Death spoke after a momentary pause,"we'll have to send you back to a time when your magical energy was most potent. This will allow your past bodies to accept your future minds without resulting in both of your deaths."

Percy glared at them, his wolf glare if Harry remembered right,"and what age is that exactly?" His voice deadly calm.

Death stared at them both, the look on his face giving nothing away,"under the circumstances we've agreed that it is best not to tell you,"Percy's glare got worse,"but rest assured you will have plenty of time to complete your task."

Percy's glare didn't lighten, but Harry cut him off before he could open his mouth,"how are we suppose to stop things from turning out like they did before? I mean sure we'll be able to change our actions, do things differently, but others are still going to be stuck in their ways. What we're about to do might not be enough?"

Chaos laughed, sounding like a thousand ringing bells,"that's where we come in dear. We know you may need a little extra help, and we'll be there every step of the way. Though we're not able to tell you all of it now," she shared a look with Death.

"You need to get to the goblins as soon as it is safe, they'll know what they need to do," he finished never taking his eyes off of Chaos's face.

"What about the rest of it?" Percy questioned,"you said you couldn't tell us everything. Why? How do we know when your going step in?"

Chaos turned back to them, her serine smile making it look as if she hadn't a care in the world. She offered Percy her hand,"its time. If we wait any longer the stars may change their course."

Death held his hand out to Harry,"she is right, its time."

Harry shared one last glance with his best-friend before hesitantly taking the mans hand, Percy doing the same with Chaos. A dim golden light emanated from between their clasped hands and a numbing pain raced up his arm. The two across from them opened their eyes, and began to chant in a different language, the old magiks if what he remembered from Hermione was right. The numbing sense ran across his shoulders, spreading down his legs all the way to his toes before going up his neck stopping just below his chin.

Death and Chaos opened their eyes, glowing with power, wild magic blowing at their hair and cloths. They looked both boys in the eyes, speaking in unison,"do you accept your task and promise to do fulfill your duty to the best of your ability?"

Harry gulped, not sure how to answer, but that didn't seem to stop Percy,"I do." He cast a look in Harry's direction from the corner of his eye, giving a slight nod, Harry returned the gesture before taking a deep breath and focusing on Death.

"I do."

"Do you, Perseus Achillis Black, accept my offer to become Chaos's Champion, to protect the sword of Ancients, and agree to take my mark?" Her black and golden eyes swirling with her wild, uncontrollable, power.

Percy stared at Chaos with wide eyes, this obviously hadn't been part of the plan, or at least not the part they had told him about,"I...ummm...I...Yes...I-I do."

Harry turned back to Death, looking the man strait in his coal black eyes. He heard Percy's sharp intake of breath, but he couldn't turn to see what had happened. He couldn't move. It was as if his body had shut down, freezing him in place.

"Do you, Harry James Potter, accept my offer to become Master of Death, to watch over the Hallows, and agree to take my mark?" Death was in complete control, his magic reigned in. He seemed almost...calm.

Harry took a deep breath through his nose, eyes as wide as saucers,"Yes," was his voice always this high?,"I accept." Nothing happened at first then a searing pain started on his forearm, something that he could feel even through the numbness.

Death and Chaos began chanting again, but it was as if someone had stuffed cotton in his ears. His vision began to fuzz around the edges, his breath coming out in puffs. His eyelids began to droop as his grip on reality began to slip.

He vaguely thought he heard Death mutter,"take care of my Hallows," as he fell backwards into his chair.

* * *

 **Eighteen Years Earlier**

A burst of untamed magic blew across the globe as two souls ricocheted back into their bodies. Two pairs of unique, powerful green eyes snapped open half way across the world from each other. Two identical smiles spread across two different faces.

"We're back,"both boys muttered in the same instant.

* * *

 **With Death and Chaos**

Chaos sighed and lent into Deaths side. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her closer as she burrowed into his side.

"Did we do the right thing?" she whispered quietly.

"We must have, my love,"he murmured softly, kissing the top of her head,"their names were written in the stars."

 **Alright, here's the question you all knows coming, what'd you think? I know what some of you are going to say, and I can tell you how I'll answer. No, all that time I've been gone have not helped with my grammar issues. I think I've gotten better at spelling but I can never figure out where to put those dang commas! Its just not something I'm good at. I even went back through and re-read this chapter, I still think I missed a few things though. But anyways, if you've read my stuff before you'll notice that something was missing from this chapter. Yep I'm talking about Bob and Max, I plan on bringing them back I'm just not sure how, but if they're needed plan on seeing them in the next chapter. Well that's all I have to say this time see you when the next chapters done. (That may take a while, but only because I'm trying to write the next chapter to the best of my abilities). So, bye Miss. Magic Girl signing off again. BYE!**


	2. Chapter 2: A Blast To The Past

**Hey, back again so this chapter took awhile, sorry about that. I'm not good at time management, sorry again I feel bad about that but here it is. But I was working on this chapter and now its complete. So I hope you like it, don't have much to say in this authors note so I won't keep you from the story any longer, enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I own niether of these stories all rights go to Rick Riordan and J.K. Rowling.**

 **Chapter 2:** **Blast To The Past**

Mold ran along the edges of the old wooden staircase, spiderwebs in the corners and old nails sticking through the low hanging ceiling. The same old shelf, with the same broken toys, not two feet ahead. A light bulb hanging from an old string close enough to touch swinging back and forth nearly touching the sides of the tiny closet. A few odds and ends lay scattered across the floor.

It was the cupboard under the stairs.

Everything exactly the same as it had been all those years ago. As if nothing had ever happened, and it hadn't. The war, his friends, Sirius's escape from Azkaban, all those deaths. Nothing, like a bad dream, it had all just disappeared.

Harry Potter sat up from the lumpy old mattress in his room in the cupboard under the stairs. He looked down at his hands, flexing his tiny fingers before surveying the items in the cupboard. He had a strange sense of déjà vu while looking at all his old things, items he hadn't seen in years, things he never thought he'd see again. Though nothing gave him a clue to what age he was.

Heck, he didn't even know what time it was, though from the sounds of his uncle snoring upstairs, he would guess it was late night or early morning. Meaning he needed to move now.

He scrambled out of the moth-eaten fabric that once served as his blanket and snatched up his old backpack. The bag had once been Dudley's, a back to school present from Aunt Marge, race car red with a shiny new key chain in the shape of a large dog. Of course that's not what it looked like now. No, now it was beaten and battered, covered in a layer of mud and a dull orangey color reminding Harry greatly of a rusty pipe. When he picked it up the left shoulder strap broke off.

He cursed quietly under his breath. Of course he could have always used magic to fix it, but he wasn't sure how to do that without a wand. Sure he had done a bit of wandless magic before, one of Hecate's daughters had shown the more powerful wizards how, but it was complicated and took a lot of energy. Something that should only be done in a dire emergency, and at the moment he wasn't sure how his magic would react after being sent back in time and forced into his younger body.

He wrinkled his nose as he looked down at the tattered mat of fabric in his hand. _First things first, get a new bag, next get supplies, then get the heck out of here and go meet Percy._

He dropped the bag and turned to the door, pushing it gently with his hand, it didn't open. He gave it another shove, harder this time, nothing. Pushing it with as much strength as his little body could manage it didn't budge.

Harry huffed,"locked,"he grumbled,"of course it's locked." He slapped his hand against the thin wood in frustration. The door collapsed landing on the polished tile with a resounding _**'thud'.**_

Harry's head shot toward's the staircase, his uncles snores cut off for a second before continuing. Harry sighed in relief and stepped out of his cupboard into a hallway, he'd never wanted to see again, glancing down at the door he was careful to step around it.

 _Must have been accidental magic,_ he thought. He was in his younger body, it only made sense that his magic had reverted along with him.

He slipped silently through the shadows, up the stairwell, and into the smallest bedroom in the Dursley household. Swiftly he grabbed a green backpack from beside the extra bed, not even bothering to see what was inside, before bolting back down the stairs and into the kitchen. There he grabbed whatever non-perishable food he could find along with a few water bottles.

He stopped at the cupboard and packed what little belongings he had and shoved them into the bag as well. Small things that only a child would care for, but he found himself compelled to take. A book he'd gotten from the second bedroom, the old army toys he could remember playing with each morning, a red silken baby blanket with his name embroidered on it in golden stitching, and, for some reason, the golden dog key chain from red backpack.

Once packed and ready to go he moved back into the hall and started to make his way towards the door when he saw something shimmer out of the corner of his eye. Curiosity getting the better of him as he approached the small table that sat in the hall. He was short, a side effect from years malnourished and abuse, so he couldn't see above the top of the table very well, even on his tip-toes, though he was able to reach his arm over and grab whatever it was that had caught his attention.

It was small, about as big as a quarter, made of a dark metal that shimmered when caught in the right light. A diamond-shaped black stone with a slight greenish hue to in welded to a thin black metal ring. He dropped it as if the metal had scorched his hands, it skidded across the floor, making that distinctive metal against tile sound, tink-tink-tink.

Instinctively Harry's head snapped towards the staircase, nothing. He exhaled slowly, turning back towards the ring. He blinked once, as if expecting it to go away, twice, then a third time. The ring remained, a dark shadow amidst the silver tiles. A ring Harry knew well. The very same ring Marvolo Gaunt had proclaimed as an heirloom of Slytherin, that had been stolen from Morfin Gaunt. The very same ring that Tom Marvolo Riddle had turned into a Horcrux, and on top sat the Resurrection Stone. One of the three Hallows that Death had bestowed upon the Peverell brothers. But it shouldn't have been here, that Harry was sure of. It should have been in the remains of the Gaunt household, buried within the ashes. Not on the hall table in Number 4 Privet Drive. But it was, and Harry wasn't sure why.

Death's parting words echoed in his _ears,"take care of my Hallows."_

Was this what they had meant be help?

 _"Do you accept my offer to become Master of Death, and agree to take my mark,"_ Death's voice once again came back to him, bouncing around in his head like a kangaroo.

Master Of Death. Is that what he was now?

He didn't know when he had moved from his spot by the table or how the ring had found its way into his hand, but he found that he didn't care. He turned it over in his palm, and, in a practically mindless movement, he had slipped it onto his finger, forgetting at that moment of the soul shard trapped within. As soon as the cool metal made contact with his skin an ear-piercing shriek echoed throughout the house. Green mist emanated from the ring, rising to form a vaguely humanoid shape. The ghost like figure screeched, withering in the air as if hit by the cruciatus curse. It exploded, sending a gush of air through out the house strong enough to shatter every window in the vicinity, throwing the furniture across the room, and making a royal mess of Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry was frozen in shock, unable to move, he'd only see something like that when they had destroyed a horcrux, but to destroy a horcrux you had to have a certain object, some kind of poison. How could he have destroyed one just by touching it? A crash sounded from upstairs breaking his trance.

"Vernon did you hear that?" his aunts shrill voice echoed through the otherwise silent house. He dashed for the umbrella stand, turning it over, it clattered to the floor and rolled to the bottom of the staircase, and snatched the money his aunt had stashed beneath it.

"I don't think there was a single house on this block that didn't," came his uncle's gruff reply, Harry grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, the door flew backwards hitting the wall with a BANG. "Stay here,"his uncle bellowed,"I'll bet you it's just a bloody burglar. The Jefferson's down the street were robbed last week and now I'll bet you he's come for us. Well I won't have it!"

He could hear his uncle's lumbering footsteps coming down the hall, but he didn't wait long enough to see the man himself. He dashed out the front door and down the street. The wind hit him like a brick wall, he hadn't had the foresight to bring a jacket and there was no chance of him going back for one now. He heard his uncle howling from behind him, screaming about the freak getting loose, lights began to flicker on in the nearby houses, but Harry didn't stop.

He didn't care about the supposed 'protection' he had at his relative's house, a protection he was beginning to suspect had never existed in the first place, he didn't care about Dumbledore, or Voldemort or his Death Eaters. He had all the knowledge of a twenty-three year old wizard, and without The Trace on him, he could very efficiently take care of himself.

He didn't slow until the shouts faded in the distance and the familiar surroundings morphed into unfamiliar territory. Breath coming out in puffs, skinny legs shaking and the start of a slight film on his forehead had him dropping down on a nearby bus bench. Away from his relatives and out of the Wizarding Worlds sights, he just needed to meet up with Percy and so could make their next move and...they'd never decided on a meeting place.

"Merlin's Beard,"he cursed.

* * *

Stars freckled the night sky, barely visible through the thick city smog. The moon shining down on the world, glowing brightly through the foggy night. Car horns sounded near by followed by the sounds of wheels skidding across pavement, cursing and threats shouted by pedestrians. Just another night in the city.

Of course, no one saw him, he'd never been fond of people so any other time that wouldn't have bothered him, but not now. Right now he really needed someone to look down the alleyway and pull him out, he needed someone to save him. But no one was coming.

His head was pounding so hard he was sure his brain was trying to break out of his skull, his legs felt like jello, and his heart pounded against his rib cage in a rhythmic beat, _thump-thump-thump-thump._ He was laying on the ice-cold concrete, and there was a terrible smell coming from a nearby dumpster, like that of rotting pizza and dirty gym shorts. There was a numb pain in his left arm as well, one that was slowly increasing in intensity. Though the pain didn't make much sense to him. Sure, he was beaten up, battered and bruised, probably left for dead. But he'd had worse than this. He'd felt more pain than this, had much larger had deeper cuts than that on his arm, he'd faced death. Compared to that this was nothing but a smack on the head, yet it hurt like Manticore poison. He rolled over so that he was on his hands and knees, nearly collapsing when he put weight on his injured arm. He grimaced seeing blood flowing from what looked like a large dog bite.

 _Hellhound,_ he thought.

He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling slightly, he had to grab hold of a nearby dumpster so he didn't fall flat on his butt. Gagging at the smell he pushed himself away, stumbled again, and fell to the ground next to a pile of old cigarettes. He groaned pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. He grimaced as the pounding increased instead of subsiding as he hoped. He opened his eyes again and found he was staring at a grimy reflection of himself in the stainless steel dumpster. His raven black hair was plastered to his scalp, stray leaves popping up here and there, the mud caked within it turning it a gruesome brown. His cheeks were a bit shallow and dark purple bags defined his bright sea-green eyes. He couldn't tell what age he was exactly, but he could guess from his appearance it was somewhere between seven or eight, six at the youngest.

A picture of Death popped into his head, _"we'll have to send you back to a time when your magical energy was most potinent."_

He stared at his reflection for another moment, he remembered something that he had once noticed in the Wizarding World while doing so. Seven. The wizards, all wizards, seemed to have some kind of obsession with the number seven. Personally, he couldn't really see the reason why,demi-gods gravitated more towards the number three. The Big Three, three per quest, it just made sense to him. But seeing as the two detenies seemed to be riding more on the wizarding side of things, and there was absolutely no way that he was three years old, he would bet that they had sent them back to their seven-year old bodies.

 _Great,_ he thought, _gotta go through puberty all over again._

He huffed and pulled himself to his feet again. His legs shook under his weight, but he didn't fall. Stumbling over to the wall, he dragged himself out of the alley and towards the street. He nearly tripped over a small blue backpack sitting at the entrance. His backpack.

He still couldn't remember this day, what had happened before this or what might happen after, but he did recognize that backpack. He'd carried that thing around with him for as long as he could remember and he'd still had it when he died. He grabbed it and started digging through it, pushing aside dirty clothes and cracker boxes, until he reached the bottom. He pulled out an old plastic water bottle, only half full of an ambery liquid. He smiled and took a drink, letting out a soft sigh as the pain started to slowly ebb away. He glanced down at his arm and relaxed when he saw the wound closing until only a thin pink scar remained.

Tossing the bottle back into his bag and throwing the bag over his shoulder, he started walking down the street. Looking around, he figured he was somewhere in New York, which only served to confuse him more. He couldn't remember coming back to New York after his mother died, not until he was fifteen at least. There were too many bad memories associated with the place. Like the day she died. He could remember his mother hiding him in a dumpster when he was four years old as she went to fight off the monster that had been on their trail. He remembered how she had told him to stay put and not to come out no matter what. He could remember clutching his backpack as she screamed.

When he'd crawled out of the dumpster it had been dark, he wasn't sure how long he'd been in there but it must have been hours. There was no moon that night, no stars either, he could remember crying as he searched for his mother, calling for her in the dark. He found her lying face up in a pool of her own blood surrounded by sparkling golden dust. Her throat had been ripped out and her body mauled. She was bleeding everywhere, her blood was everywhere. Her blue eyes, always full of happiness and life, stared vacantly at the sky. He remembered dropping to his knees next to her limp form, shaking her, telling her to wake up, sobbing over her lifeless body.

He ran from New York that night, promising himself that he would never go back. He never wanted to see that place again, he never wanted to go back to the place where his mother met her end. She'd left a letter for him in his bag, he hadn't been able to read it for another few years, unable to handle both the emotional pain and because he hadn't been able to read at the time. It had told him all about his father, or rather father's. Sirius Black, the wizard imprisoned for a murder that he had not committed, though he hadn't known that at the time, as well as his mother's long time boyfriend, and Poseidon, immortal Greek god of the sea's. The letter told him that she didn't know how it was possible, but she knew for certain, magical blood tests never lie. It told him of the Greek gods, of the British wizards, about Hogwarts and Camp Half-Blood, it told him everything she knew of both worlds. From the simple things, like Gringotts and the mist, to things she had learned from experience, like how the Ministry of Magic was full of a bunch of bozos who couldn't tell the difference between a toaster and a microwave or that Hera hated all demi-gods no matter who their parent. Five pages of information that took him a total of three days to read.

The day he'd opened the letter was the day he got Riptide, a shimmering celestial bronze sword that had been bigger than he was at the time, a gift from Poseidon. When he read the letter he had been seven, the age he was now, and had only survived because of a voice in his head that would show up from time to time and tell him what to do, it had saved his life on more that one occasion. Only then had he realized that it had been the voice of Poseidon. In her final letter Sally Jackson had told her son that the gods aren't allowed to see their children, but he knew it was his father, that or he'd just been going crazy (though he liked to think it was the first option).

After that he'd just wandered around, never staying in one place too long, meeting new people, trying new things, destroying any monster that dared to cross his path. He received his Hogwarts letter when he was eleven, addressed to Mr.P Jackson-Black, but he'd sent back a negative response, refusing to go anywhere that reminded him of his mother. But he made sure that he knew everything going on within the Wizarding World, he knew all about Harry Potter and his 'great adventures', he saw that his father, Sirius Black, had broken out of Azkaban, though he hadn't really cared, the man didn't even know he existed, he knew of Voldemort's supposed 'rise', but he never went to that world, not wanting to get caught up in something that didn't affect him. Why should he care? There was nothing there for him. Though he couldn't say that he didn't have a wand and he most certainly couldn't deny that he used it quite often.

All that changed when he was fifteen. Sirius Black had found that he had a child when he had returned to Grimmauld Place. A single glance at the Black family tree had him out the door within the hour with nothing but a hasty and vague explanation to Remus Lupin of what he was doing. No one saw or heard from the Black Lord for the next three and a half weeks, and when he did returned, he had come dragging a reluctant Percy along with him. Only then did he explain to the others what had happened. They had been reluctant to accept the fact that Sirius had a son, but as Sally Jackson had found out, heritage potions never lie, but that didn't stop the others from accusing him of being a Death Eater spy, even thought he didn't have a dark mark. He had returned to New York that year to speak with other demi-gods of the 'Kronos Problem'. But he had never returned before that, so he couldn't explain why he was here now.

He wasn't exactly sure where he was in New York, but he could see the Empire State Building in the distance. He started walking, not sure exactly where he was going, but he knew he had to get to England, though he wasn't sure how, once there he could find Harry and they would figure out their next move. Percy froze mid step, they'd never decided on a place to meet.

"Hades,"he cursed.

 **Alright so there it was, I was going to make it longer then I decided that it was long enough and I needed to get something posted and up or people would start to think I had abandoned this story after one chapter, which I have not. So I guess the explaining, getting back together thing is going to last for two chapters instead of one like I had originally planned, but what are you gonna do. So I guess I'll see you next time I update, if that takes awhile I apologize in advance but I want you to know that I am working on the chapters and not procrastinating or putting them off. So, bye, hope you liked this chapter!**


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